Rash Decisions

by Alex Rosa

  “So, did you break up?”

  He fidgets again, his long fingers toying with the rim of his coffee mug. “When I had to go back to work I had to leave Elizabeth with my parents a lot of the time. I had already convinced myself that Torrey and I were over. The time we did spend together was empty. We dealt with each other’s company when she would attempt to care for our daughter. I hated the situation, and I was starting to hate her because this was never the environment I wanted to bring up my daughter in. This went on for a year, and we were essentially separated. I was an idiot trying to keep my life together. I just wanted this picture perfect thing and I was taught never to give up. Work was going well. I was climbing the ladder, but my hours were erratic and I was being over worked. I don’t know how I kept it together, but I did.”

  “This is insane, Troy.”

  “You haven’t even heard the best part.”

  His pained look is anything but happy.

  “Noah at the time was this rowdy kid, always getting into trouble. We’re three years apart, but we were really different growing up—“

  “What does Noah have to do with this?”

  He waves me off. “I was always the put together one, but still never the favorite. Noah played on all the sports teams he could get on, and my Dad loved it. They were identical, or at least, that’s the impression I got. I’m nothing like my Dad, and he liked to remind me of it all the time. Of course, we were all aware that he wasn’t really my dad. Noah and I have the same mother, not father. I always felt like a bit of an outsider. My mother doted on me, and I love my little sister, but she’s just as out of control as Noah was.”

  “I still don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

  “I know, but it’s coming. I played sports too, but it was never my father’s favorite sport. I played soccer. Soccer was a sport for wimps, and football was a sport for men, or so my father thought. Noah and me fought physically all the time, too. It was how we measured up to one another. He can be an oaf, but I was quicker and more cunning. It’s kind of been that way our whole life. I love Noah. He’s my brother.”

  My brows furrow as I nod, suddenly feeling fear creep into my spine.

  “When in college, Noah was the most out of control he had ever been. He was partying a lot, and his friends were idiots, but we were close. He hung out with me on campus, and that’s where we bonded when we were away from our parents. We’d still fight, but we were always there for each other. At one of these parties Noah was the one who introduced me to Torrey.”

  I choke on my mocha. “He knew Torrey before you?”

  He nods slowly. “They were fucking before I had even laid eyes on her, actually.”

  I can tell he holds back saying something, as if changing tact as he says. “Noah wasn’t sleeping with Torrey while she and I were together, at least I don’t think so. Because, why would he do that? Again, Noah was a mess with no direction. He was drinking all the time and none of us knew how low he was really getting.”

  I chew my lip, overwhelmed with the need to understand what any of this means. I know Troy to only do things with purpose and the bottoming out feeling in my gut tells me this time his reasoning isn’t good.

  “Anyway, back to when Torrey and I were having issues after the baby. I had delusions of grandeur when I was offered a promotion. I had a resurgence of determination and thought that if I tried hard enough then to make our relationship work, it would. I was about to get a pay raise. I thought maybe I could buy a house and that’s what could fix us. I was an idiot; young and stupid. I came home that night and Noah was waiting for me on my doorstep. He was sitting on the stoop, head in his hands. He looked a mess. I thought he was in some sort of trouble. Maybe with money, or the wrong people, but when he lifted his face, he was crying. It was bizarre for me to see because I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him cry. It wasn’t his thing. I brought him up into my apartment and he doesn’t say a word. I try to get him to talk when we get inside, but he won’t. That’s when I try to lighten the mood and tell him about my plan to present Torrey with this amazing idea of becoming a family, and how she can go back to school if she wanted. I didn’t get ten words in before Noah blurted out that he had slept with her.”

  My jaw falls slack. He raises his hand to stop my words or possibly another emotion to cross my face. “Wait for it, Jules. Don’t freak out. Let me finish. Naturally, Noah and me handled it the way we always did. We beat the shit out of each other. I broke his nose. He fractured one of my ribs. It wasn’t pretty. We collapsed onto my disgusting apartment floor, and he screamed his apologies and begged for forgiveness. We were both so fucked up mentally then I don’t think I really beat him up because I was mad at him, and I don’t think he fought back because he had something to fight for. I think we just punched and punched because we were so frustrated with our own lives that this was our outlet. Sure, I was angry that he slept with my wife. I was furious. But was there any saving the marriage? No. I knew that too. Noah explained that it was an accident. She showed up at a bar with her friends one night that week. He was too drunk to know better, and he swears that she took advantage of him. The sickening part is, I knew she was capable of that. His whole story sounded like something she would do. He said he walked straight to my apartment the next day riddled with guilt and ready to throw himself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Noah was scraping by. He bombed out of college about a month before and was working at a gym. He had no direction, and he knew he had fucked up. We talked. I forgave him. I told him he needed to do something with his life, and he confessed that he’s been too terrified to man up. However, the next day after our brawl and a mandatory hospital visit, he enrolled in the police academy. He became an entirely different human being after betraying me. It was like light and day. He quit partying and focused on the academy. It seemed like a preposterous thing at the time, but my dad is a cop, and it only made him more proud, but it also made Noah happy. He instantly found a purpose and it made him a better man. I filed for divorce that same month, and the bitch took half my money and still demanded custody because it would require me to give her child support. I knew a good lawyer and I still get Elizabeth majority of the time, but still, it was messy. Elizabeth was so young she has no memory of any of this. Now Torrey married herself off to an old, rich real estate investor on the other side of town, priding herself on her trophy wife status.”

  My mouth still hasn’t closed. “I can’t believe Noah is capable of that.”

  A pained look of anger etches itself across Troy’s face. “No one can, and no one knows about it. We didn’t tell anyone. I kept it a secret for the sake of his reputation. We still jab and poke fun at each other like things are fine, but Noah’s got a big chip on his shoulder for lots of reasons, like proving to my father he’s worthy of being a cop, and also bearing the burden of sleeping with my wife. It humbled him. Don’t get me wrong, Jules. I don’t want this tainting your view of Noah, and I shouldn’t have said anything. No one knows the truth, and it isn’t my place. But the Noah you know is the real Noah. He’s kind, generous, caring, and nuts about you. In truth, you’re the first woman I’ve seen him with seriously in a very long time.”

  He shrugs, and it’s as if he wishes he didn’t say it.

  My stomach is still in knots over the whole story. It doesn’t matter what the details are when it comes to me and Noah’s relationship, but for Troy, my heart breaks.

  I try to bear the news with a tight smile. “I guess we all make mistakes.”

  Troy nods. “Yes, but I can’t help but think he still doesn’t deserve you, even if it’s wrong.”

  I want to say aren’t we all guilty of the same mistake, making this an even playing field? But I don’t.

  I can see how much the talking has exhausted Troy. His eyes droop, and I hate it.

  “Thanks for telling me that story.”

  He shrugs, and I find it adorable when matched with his eyes glued to his
empty coffee cup deep in thought.

  I lean forward and tug on his arm. “Hey, come back to me.”

  When he lifts his stare to mine, he looks determined as he says, “I need you to know I did not sleep with Megan.”

  “I know, Troy.” I pause, and want so badly for this moment to get better. “Because if you did, I’d peg you for a ten minute man, and that would be unfortunate.”

  The truth is, I know he isn’t. I know his stamina. My cheeks heat when the truth.

  He laughs and the mood finally settles.

  “Will you walk me home?” I ask.

  “It’s all I want right now.”

  For such a heavy evening, I forget everything when I finally catch sight of his wry smile that’s just for me.

  I daydreamed about Troy a lot today, which is another red flag. It’s been two days and I can’t help but play our innocent evening in my head over and over again.

  After such heavy storytelling the ride on the subway and the walk home with Troy was far lighter. We joked about work, told a few embarrassing stories until finally he walked me to the door of my building, but explained he didn’t trust himself to walk me to my apartment door. We laughed, but I can’t for the life of me figure out when our attraction to one another became a joke. He didn’t once touch me. He kept a safe distance, mostly keeping his hands in his pockets.

  It seemed he felt guilty about the story he told me about his ex-wife, and I don’t know what to make of any of it. He’s worried what it revealed about Noah, but if anything, it explains Troy way more than it explains anyone else. I almost liked it. I liked getting a glimpse of the building blocks that are Troy’s life, the good and bad.

  I shake my head while absentmindedly spinning the pen in my hand, knowing I’ve thought about him enough today. The pen tip doddles right above the paper, but never actually touches, and I know it’s because I’m too distracted to press it down onto the sketchpad to work.

  Noah is supposed to meet me here to take me out to dinner tonight. I’ll never be able to confront him on all the things that were revealed to me either, and I can’t decide if it matters. I wonder, if I pry, will Noah at least give any details about his rebellious side that he apparently has? Do I feel so inclined to test Noah? I shake my head. No, I don’t need to test him.

  I strum my fingers over my chin, knowing that I have come to the conclusion that I’ll never confess about Troy and me. Admitting that is a hard pill to swallow, but some things are better left unsaid, but because of this I need to create a better foundation for us to build on. Right now, there are too many cracks for us to trip over.

  The sounds in the hallway distract me from my nervous, hopeful musings.

  Now that I’m aware that a toddler sometimes appears in the office I’m able to identify the pitter-patter of her short steps as I hear someone approach my doorway.

  “Lizzy?” I question as she enters confidently. No more timid little girl. We’re past that.

  She clutches her purple rhino stuffed animal close as she lets a smile spread through her face. “What ya doin’?”

  It must be past six in the evening if she’s here. I’ve been working hard on budgeting the cost of furniture and fixtures for the Soleil nightclub. Troy and I exchanged e-mails all day about securing permits to a corner warehouse location the Soleil brothers found perfect.

  Putting down my pen and committing my attention to a little girl whose eyes pierce me just like her fathers is the best excuse I have to stop working.

  “I’m working, but I’m done now.”

  She nods, walking toward my desk, and then around it. “Can I th-ee?” she asks, her lisp tugging at my heartstrings as she grabs for my chair.

  I’ve always liked kids, but something about this one fills me with involuntary joy. Maybe it’s her odd trust in me as I watch her raise her hands. Naturally, I grab for her, picking her up and placing her in my lap as she clutches her rhino close, leaning over my desk.

  Among my spreadsheets are floor plans, colorfully highlighted and marked, which grab her attention.

  I watch her small hand tug the paper to the forefront. That paper specifically just happens to be the first evidence that Troy and me can, in fact, work together. We huddled in his office most of the morning, shooting each other small smiles and raised brows as we agreed upon a floor plan, along with construction add-ons. We took notes and accepted recommendations like real functioning adults.

  A heavy tingle begins a slow simmer over my skin, and I lift my chin toward the doorway.

  Troy is leaning against the doorframe watching.

  I notice first that there’s something to be said for Troy when he’s anxious to leave the office. His suits always fit him to perfection, but I get the sinking feeling he’s always ready to ditch the outfits. His tie is tugged loose, hanging far below his chin, and no matter how hard I try to forget, I always remember when I had the pleasure of pulling and loosening his tie myself. It’s more than just a forbidden memory.

  I chew my bottom lip, and worry he can read my mind as a slow smile spreads through his mouth. He takes a few steps inside, catching Lizzy’s attention.

  “Daddy!” she giggles, but doesn’t budge from my lap. She merely flashes him a bright smile of recognition, and the sight has me mirroring her look with my arms around her tiny waist as we both watch him.

  He looks on the verge of words, but when his mouth falls slack, it seems like more of an accident. Instead, he continues to stare, rubbing at his jaw, and that smirk only grows.

  “Daddy, why can’t Julia watch me?”

  My face scrunches up, confused as I look from her to him. “What?” I ask.

  He fiddles with his tie and rolls his eyes. “Elizabeth, we’ve been over this. I’m sure Julia has a lot more important things to do on a Friday night.”

  My eyebrows pull together, and my words fly out of my mouth before I have time to consider them. “I can babysit if you need me to.”

  He strokes his jaw again, his lips twisting wryly as he watches me. We’ve been doing so well the past couple days, so he needs to stop that this instant. Can’t he just nod and agree like normal people?

  “Yay!” exclaims Elizabeth.

  “Elizabeth, go grab your backpack from my office.”

  She looks a bit confused, but nods and obeys. However, before slipping out of my grasp she wraps her pudgy arms around my neck and squeezes. The affection startles me at first as I hug back, flinging my eyes to Troy who seems petrified to the spot, stoic, eyes wide. Yeah, I’m shocked too.

  When Lizzy finally lets go and runs back to Troy’s office, he says, “she’s kind of having a rough week. That’s why she has Sniffles with her.”

  My lips stretch wide. “Sniffles?”

  He lifts a heavy shoulder. “The rhino. She got it when she was really sick as a baby, and we named him Sniffles. She thinks it’s fitting because rhinos are endangered and it makes them ‘sick’ all the time, and that we have to look after them. I don’t have the heart to tell her it doesn’t make sense. She normally just sleeps with him, but when she gets sad she takes him everywhere.”

  “Did she tell you she was upset?”

  He shakes his head. “She doesn’t ever express when she’s sad. She will when she’s mad, or happy, but she never outwardly says she’s sad. Even if she cries, she won’t admit she’s upset. She’ll just grab Sniffles and cry herself out without much of an explanation.”

  “Why does she do that? Seems strange,” I reply baffled by the complexity of such an adorable little girl.

  He laughs and the baritone of it causes my heart to swell. “She’s strange in the best of ways. She told me once that she hates seeing things sad—in movies, people and animals. She said seeing things sad makes her sad. So, when she’s sad she doesn’t want to tell anyone in the fear of making them sad, too. She’s a kooky one.”

  “She’s gonna write some killer poetry when she hits her rebellious pha
se.”

  Troy’s eyes go wide with terror and all I can do is laugh.

  From Lizzy's views on life and emotions, to Troy's comprehension of fatherhood and the future, I have a hard time not falling in love with the both of them.

  I. Did. Not. Just. Think. That.

  I gulp down the thought, hard.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I shake my head, scrunching my eyes and rubbing my temples. Which are all things that mean I am not okay, so I try and stop and open my eyes, except I should have kept them shut because his eyes are glowing, round, and adorable, caring even.

  Another dry gulp.

  “Of course I’m okay.”

  He nods, but it’s another moment where I can tell he doesn’t believe me. He shifts his inquisitive stare down to my desk and extends his arm out, his long fingers sliding the layout design from under my pile of budgets.

  Without looking up he asks, “Is this the revised version we discussed?”

  “Yup,” I breathe out.

  “Thanks for moving the hallway entryway. I know you wanted to accommodate the corner booths, but in a way, I like that the design has flipped where they’re on the other side. What if we moved the raised VIP level over here, too?”

  I love watching Troy work. Somehow we have managed a flawless working routine after our midnight pow-wow. He’s calculated and methodical. His piercing eyes, for once, are not on me, but on my graph paper, measuring for errors and design.

  “Where?” I ask as I stand and move around my desk to stand next him.

  “Here,” he points.

  I lean over the design, and shake my head. “We can’t. If you want the media area to be more prime and centrally located it needs to be there. Plus, I have a plan for a lounge area right in front. The only thing I can suggest is to switch the place of the bar with the VIP section, but then we have to battle for plumbing and all that. It’s an old building from the 1920’s. We have to at least attempt to be gentle with it.”